


Ay de mí, Hamada

by Axuree



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014), Coco (2017)
Genre: Cute, I CAN'T WRITE SAD STUFF BECAUSE I'M SOFT AND I CRY, IT'S NOT SAD GODDAMIT, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Teen Romance, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 17:06:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13745469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axuree/pseuds/Axuree
Summary: Falling in love with an amazing person is nothing new. But dedicating a song to them in the candlelight amongst cempasúchitls and tombstones, in secret, with reverence... it's something only those who are lovesick to death can do.And Hiro is the "llorona" who inspires Miguel's pain.





	Ay de mí, Hamada

Hiro Hamada. 

Extraordinary hero.15-year-old college genius. Orphaned from both father and mother. Newspapers said he lost his brother in a fire and learned from it to turn into a better person. He was friends with intelligent people and he had crafted his own identity as a superhero.

He had saved his own skin, his family, his entire town and _even_ his ancestors from a cybernetical threat which threatened Santa Cecilia around the end of October. It was something about trying to open a portal to the Land of the Dead to take advantage of its energy.

He heard something about the bad guy scurrying away yet the team hoped to catch him during November, on the Day of the Dead. The how or what, he didn’t know. He didn’t understand much, he wasn’t as smart as Hiro was.

What mattered was that everything was under control now and it was thanks to him and the Big Hero 6 team. Currently, they were staying in Santa Cecilia to make sure that everything was alright and to catch the mastermind behind the attack once and for all.

Around October 30th, the villain had attempted to kidnap him to use him as a portal between this world and the other one and Hiro had saved him. He had carried him and let him see the town from up above. Afterwards, he took care of his wounds with his dead brother’s health care robot. But, it was different from his brother’s. Hiro had single-handedly modified it into something at least three times more awesome.

Because of all that, and many other things, he admired Hiro.

And not only that, he had fallen hopelessly head over heels in love with his savior. Like a _pinche_ fag freak. Like a _pinche_ Disney princess. His parents would kill him if they knew he was swinging left for another boy. And _abuela,_ much more.

But what kind of chance did he have with someone like Hiro? He was just an ordinary teenager who needed private lessons to pass algebra. He was only involved in the whole ordeal due to stealing Héctor’s guitar two years ago. Then recently he accidentally opened a portal to the Land of the Dead. He didn’t even know _how_ he managed to _do that_ with the guitar.  

He didn’t even know how to help the superhero team to understand the supernatural events from two years ago. And, despite everything, Hiro would _still_ claim to trust him and tell him to not worry if it was a hazy memory. They would find a solution to catch the villain and everyone would be safe again.

He was so disappointed in himself.

To make it worse, Hiro was staying at his home. In his room. Because there were no hotels in Santa Cecilia and the town had organized themselves to host the group and provide them with anything they could possibly need.

He asked Rosa for help and she suggested he write down all of his good qualities. But all he could come up with was “I can sing”, “I can play the guitar,” “I love my family,” and “I can survive the flying _chancla_ from Mama Elena with the bruise disappearing in under two days”. Those weren’t the best convincing traits when faced against the impressive list of virtues that blessed Hiro.

And despite his unimpressive traits, he still wanted to be friends with Hiro.

Which was why he offered to help him set up an altar for Tadashi and his parents on the day before Day of the Dead. They placed the _ofrenda_ in the same spot where he used to keep his secret altar for Ernesto and explained a bit about the tradition. Hiro didn’t seem to understand and looked  sceptical about the whole “people won’t die for good unless you forget them” thing. But still, he listened respectfully and even helped decorate the area surrounding the pictures.

When the night spread through Santa Cecilia, perfumed in the scent of the cempasúchitl flowers, the Big Hero Six set up an early watch on the graveyard. It was to both appreciate the nocturnal beauty before it became crowded, and to stay alert in case anything suspicious happened. The tombs themselves were surrounded by flowers, food, incense, colorful paper artwork and lit candles.

And Miguel…? Miguel was just watching _him_ from the top of Ernesto’s abandoned mausoleum. Silent. With a light feathery touch ghosting over his guitar strings.

It dawned on him that Hiro seemed to stay a bit separated from the group. The boy appreciated the tombstones, the candles, and the flowers until he was left completely alone. As if for a brief, _the briefest moment,_ he was _almost_ considering the possibility of his brother _actually_ crossing to get his offering at the altar… in order to have dinner with Hiro one last time before parting to the other side.

As if he was almost considering dumping all logic in favor of the smallest hope that promised to soothe a little of his pain.

Miguel recognized that sorrowful gaze. It was the same mama Elena had the day mama Coco passed away.

Moved by Hiro’s delicate silhouette among the candles as he thought of his brother, he couldn’t stop himself from whispering a soft song. Perfect. Grieving.

_Out of his reach._

…You can’t hurt anyone’s feelings if no one is close enough to hear you sing.

_**“You walked in the graveyard one evening, Hamada** _

_**When passing by, I saw you.”** _

Couldn’t hurt anyone who didn’t know he was changing the lyrics a bit, either.

**_“You walked in the graveyard one evening, Hamada_ **

**_When passing by, I saw you._ **

**_The breathtaking beauty of your frame Hamada_ **

**_Made me glimpse an angel in you._ **

**_The breathtaking beauty of your frame Hamada_ **

**_Made me glimpse an angel in you!”_ **

Miguel could almost hear the sound of his heart shattering with the song, each piece resonating agony in the vibrations of the guitar strings as he smiled. Because in his eyes, Hiro really _was_ a savior and looked like a guardian angel. Even more so surrounded by all those golden flowers and flickering candle lights.

He’d give up anything if it meant he could receive just one hug in return.

**_“There’s something up with the flowers, Hamada, the flowers in the camposanto._ **

**_What could be the flowers hiding, Hamada, the flowers in the camposanto?”_ **

Hiro thought he heard something.

Turning his head in the direction of the noise, he stood still and listened. Miguel paused his melody for a moment to hide even deeper in the blanket of shadows. The wind howled and the fire of the candles trembled with him in fear.

Luckily for him, Hiro shrugged after what felt like forever, possibly linking the noise to the town’s close festivities or the wind itself, and minded his own business once again. After covering his face with the hoodie to protect his skin from the wind he knelt in front of the altar closest to him and inspected the flowers, for reasons unknown.

It wasn’t until Miguel saw the pain reflected in his eyes that he realized he wasn’t looking at the flowers, but the portraits of the dead people whose altar was set.  Possibly thinking of his brother. The cempasúchitls set around the altar almost seemed to take pity on him, almost bending towards him in vain hopes of offering comfort and company.

He strummed his guitar and kept whispering.

_**“Whenever the wind gets them swaying, Hamada, they always look like they are crying.** _

_**Whenever the wind gets them swaying, Hamada, they always look like they are crying.”** _

Hiro was crying. The candle light bouncing off his teary cheeks gave him away.

Miguel wouldn’t dare interrupt him now, not even for all the hugs in the world.

_**“Ay de mí, Hamada.** _

_**Hamada, you’re mi amor.** _

_**Ay, woe is me, Hamada.** _

_**Hamada, you’re mi amor.”** _

Miguel’s family would kill him.

If they knew what he was doing, he’d be dead. If they knew he was butchering the lyrics of such a classic song by changing “ _llorona_ ”, the crying woman, into Hiro’s surname and rearranging everything in the lyrics so he could secretly serenade him with it.

Yet Hiro looked like he was really hurting from the inside. Wasn’t that just as similar as crying? Mama Imelda would kill him in the afterlife for that. Still, his love for Hiro was similar to his love for music… it couldn’t be stopped.

Oh, how he understood the pain papa Héctor must’ve felt, leaving his family and not seeing them again for years!

_**“They might pry my love away, Hamada, but I’m never going to forget you.** _

_**They might pry my love away, Hamada, but I’m never going to forget you.”** _

_How could he ever forget him?_

Miguel let out a bittersweet smile thinking about the next part of the song. He knew the lyrics, and… wasn’t Hiro surrounded by Christian crosses right now? Yes, he was. Several of them made out of metal, too. And in the middle of them all, there was Hiro, seeking for an answer, and seemingly so… so…

Magnificent. Sad. Poetic. _Made out of music._ Surrounded by wind, the floral perfume showered and coated him as much as the melody of his song did.

So out of his reach. Just like the stars in the night sky.

Miguel climbed down from the mausoleum and kneeled in front of an iron cross. The agony within his chest was way too painful.

_**“Under a holy Christ of iron Hamada,** _

_**I shared my sorrows with him.** _

_**Under a holy Christ of iron Hamada,** _

_**I shared my sorrows with him”** _

His voice was cracking. He looked up into the sky as an attempt to stop his tears from flowing. The stars blurred out of focus because of the tears in his eyes, despite his best efforts to keep them from rolling down.

_**“My grieves must’ve been too great to bear, Hamada, for I made the Holy Christ cry.** _

_**My grieves must’ve been too great to bear, Hamada, for I made the Holy Christ cry!** _

_**Ay de mí, Hamada, Hamada… Hamada, from the lily field.** _

_**Ay, woe is me, Hamada! Hamada… Hamada, from the lily field.”** _  


Hiro heard a quiet alert on his watch, indicating activity and movement around the general area. But… wasn’t it too early for the dead to begin crossing the bridge?

Wait… A guitar?

So, the first time hadn’t been his imagination.

He began a discrete search for the origin of the lonely concert, suddenly aware of his surroundings and with steps as quiet as a mouse’s im order to listen to the voice.

Listening to his last name within the song only made his curiosity grow.

_**“Those who haven’t loved like I love you, Hamada,** _

_**Don’t know the fiery sting of torment.** _

_**Those who haven’t loved like I love you, Hamada,** _

_**Don’t know the fiery sting of torment.”** _

Was that Miguel?

Miguel Rivera?

_**“Ay de mí, Hamada, Hamada!** _

_**Hamada of deep blue armor.** _

_**Ay, woe is me, Hamada, Hamada!** _

_**Hamada of deep blue armor”** _

The sweet guy with a heart of gold and a pretty voice?

_**“Though it might take my life away, Hamada** _

_**I won’t ever stop loving you** _

_**Though it might take my life away, Hamada** _

_**I won’t ever stop loving you!”** _

_Was he singing to him?_

Hiro stayed hidden behind the mausoleum to pay attention to everything he was saying. This was wrong. He… He shouldn’t spy on his friend… 

But…

He couldn’t stop.

_**“I hold two dear kisses in my soul, Hamada** _

_**And they’ll never part from my side.”** _

_What?_

_**“I hold two dear kisses in my soul, Hamada** _

_**And they’ll never part from my side.** _

_**The last one my gone grandma gave me, Hamada,** _

_**And the first I gave you in my dreams.** _

_**The last one my gone grandma gave me, Hamada,** _

_**And the first I gave you in my dreams!”** _

Hiro covered his mouth with his hand, heart pounding in his throat. Was this real? It couldn’t be, could it?

Miguel was crying. His eyes were closed and he was completely engulfed within the song. Yes, this was real. _Very_ real.

His heart was going to jump out of his throat any moment now.

**_“Ay de mí, Hadama. Hamada…_ **

**_Take me into the river._ **

**_Ay, woe is me, Hamada. Hamada…_ **

**_Take me into the river.”_ **

The tortured guitar strings mixed with Miguel’s disheartened voice made Hiro’s skin crawl with goosebumps. The song was specifically rearranged to fit _him_. Miguel sat down at the entry of the mausoleum, amongst flowers and candles, and Hiro barely managed to hide just in time to avoid being seen.

_**“I beg you to embrace me in your warm hug, Hamada** _

_**Because I’m freezing to death.”** _

Miguel was shaking. But… ¿The night wasn’t… _that_ cold?

Oh, no… It was the _feelings_ that were making him tremble. It was a different kind of freezing.

This was for real, real.

_**“I beg you to embrace me in your warm hug, Hamada** _

_**Because I’m freezing to death…”** _

Abruptly, Miguel shot to his feet and began to play a guitar solo while walking and dancing among the graves. Petals idly stuck to his feet and jeans before falling off. 

Miguel was feeling the music. Just letting the rhythm flow through the strings. Sudden realization hit him remembering Hiro had been present and his eyes scanned around for him shrinking in sudden terror, but no one was there.

Hiro took advantage of the instrumental  bridge to move to another place around the mausoleum where he’d feel more secluded.

Miguel whispered. “… he’s gone.”

…wait. Did that imply Miguel had followed him into the graveyard? Or was the thought a hallucination caused by the haze the song brought to his brain? That was the… the closest he’d ever been to having his feelings taken into consideration by someone else. Well, not the following him part, because that was creepy. But the fact that he had given him space…

And how he had been looking around for Hiro just to sing him a song he knew wasn’t going to be listened to…?

_Ugh_ , what was this pain in his soul?

Miguel sighed and  continued to play. Hiro crouched on the ground and listened.

_**“Maybe my love makes you wish, Hamada, for yet a stronger passion.** _

_**Maybe my love makes you wish, Hamada, for yet a stronger passion.** _

_**If I have given you my life, Hamada,** _

_**What else do you want?** _

_**How much more do you want?”** _

Seeing him cry hurt more than he could bear to watch. Hiro _had_ to do something. It wasn’t funny or tinder to see him suffer because of love.

Even less knowing he was Miguel’s tender, not-so-secret-anymore _crush_.

He got out from his mausoleum corner as casually as possible.

“Hiya, Miguel.”

Miguel jumped. “AAaaaaAAAH!”

The boy froze when he spotted him and hastily wiped  tear-stained cheeks. . Classic mariachi scream. It would never go out of fashion. He tried to pull himself together the best he could as he realized Hiro had probably been inside the graveyard this whole time. 

Oh god, _maybe he had heard him?_

“H-Hiro! Were you here this whole time?”

“I left a while back but came back when I realized I forgot my phone.” Hiro hesitated. “I thought I heard someone sing.” 

Miguel went so pale and so fast, Hiro instantly regretted his words and mentally kicked himself in the shin. “I don’t know what you were singing, but it was beautiful.”

“Oh. _Oh_ , uh… It was nothing! Thanks for the compliment.” Miguel sighed in relief, his secret safe.

Hiro stared at him. The orange glow from the flowers, the guitar, the candles, and the colours…

He didn’t know what good he could have ever done in his life to earn the boy’s  tender, sincere affection. Maybe Tadashi really was  watching over him, wherever he was. But… he hadn’t given him an instruction handbook either. 

A heart was nothing like a robot.

Hiro bit his lip. His courage was scarce and his doubts plentiful. What was he supposed to do in this case…?

“…Actually, now that I’m here, I was wondering if… maybe…” he struggled for words. “If it’s not _too much_ of a hassle… You could explain a bit more about the Day of the Dead. I saw… some really pretty decorations and it might come in handy if…if I know the meaning behind them.”

Miguel looked up to him with eyes full of love and adoration. It was the first time Hiro felt so exposed. So vulnerable and loved. No, even more than just that. They made him feel…

_Home_. Those eyes felt just like home.

“Sure, sure!” Miguel bounced to his side with an excited smile. “What do you want to know? I can guide you through town! There’s plenty of nice pretty things you can enjoy on this day before you get back to work.”

Pretty things and pretty songs too.

Together, they walked out  of the graveyard..

Hiro glanced at the stars. _Not yet, Tadashi, not yet_. He was still feeling unsure. There were still so many things left to solve. His brain needed time to process the startling revelation from minutes ago.

But… Maybe one day, with a bit of luck and a bit of guts…

He could give it a try.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm Axureé. The author of this fanfiction that's been going around tumblr. This is a translated version of the original one in spanish. You can find the spanish one in wattpad in case you want to share with a friend.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the one-shot! Thank you for reading and for your comments!


End file.
